The Grimm Ending: Little Snow White
by Jade.Parchment
Summary: The evil Queen did not meet her end by falling off a cliff. The real brothers Grimm ending...


_**Little Snow White:** The Grimm Ending..._

_This is something I wrote for my English Lesson and I thought I'd put it on here. I mean, why not? I've given it a M rating but it's not graphic or anything it's just things are implied so it's better to be safe than sorry. Remember this isn't the Disney version so don't be shocked if things contradict with that but this is FF so you should be used to that anyway. You can look at the actual story of Snow White if you are interested. Thanks! Review if you feel like it :) J.P xxxx_

I gracefully took my place on the majestic throne that sparkled against the dying Sun hanging low in the rich purple sky. The jewellery the chair wore nearly matched mine. My husband's smile spoke many stories and his eyes many more. He radiated happiness and if my reflection, in the golden goblet he raised, did not lie, then I did so as well.

He took the cup to his beautiful lips that possessed such great power and gave me life once more. I watched thirstily as he worked away at the blood red wine that trickled down his long slender neck. He was so very handsome. My husband was so very handsome. I had never had wine before but it was my wedding day. I asked for a goblet and the man waiting on us bowed his head but not before I noted the expression of unease, confusion and mirth that crossed his haggard face. When he returned I accepted the chalice into my welcoming hands and slowly sipped. The liquid burned my throat but I almost miraculously hid any signs of disgust that fuelled me and nodded my gratitude to the servant. He chortled quietly and turned away. The naive young queen; that was what I was to them and maybe they were right. They would say they saw a fair maiden; gentle, sweet and kind but I had heard the rumours, what they would say to each other behind closed doors, drafty corridors, old unused rooms.

_'How can someone go through so much abuse at the hands of their mother__without being broken?'_

I needed to point out my mother was long dead. I didn't. They remained ignorant. With a smile, my husband eased the goblet out of my fingers that were prized tightly round the gold and drank it. He knew I would not like it. He saved me again. Most of the guests had arrived and were milling round the gargantuan throne room; some dancing others talking and drinking their blood red wine, yet they did not catch my eye. The colours of emerald, sapphire, topaz, ruby, gold escaped my notice it was only until the beautiful woman in the elegant black dress waded through the crowd to reach the centre that I took any notice of the sea of colours before me. The woman stopped dead and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, as if on edge, as I felt her eyes meet mine.

My Step-Mother.

I could not help the painful shivers that rappelled down my back even if I knew that the woman, who had caused me so much harm, would never hurt me again. It did not stop me from being frightened. In that moment I was a scared little girl. I knew why she had come and part of me sought comfort in the irony that if the new queen had not been me the old queen may have succeeded but everyone here knew her face and her story. My story.

The guards swarmed upon the old queen like angry hornets grabbing her-holding her in place-but there was no need as the old queen was unnaturally still. I left my chair and allowed my eyes to burrow deep into the queen. I felt a hand intertwining with my own and looked up to see my lover's face set determinedly, a dark passion stirring behind his kindly eyes. We knew what to do.

The pair of iron shoes, that had been lying undisturbed in hot coals, was brought forward and the woman was forced into them by the men by her side and she started to scream. The beautiful sound echoed around the stony and I hungrily listened, taking it in. I wanted to dance. Skip. Jump. Anything to appreciate the music but instead I only smiled as the hiss of her melting flesh escaped the boiling shoes my step-mother was imprisoned. The reassuring pressure of my husband's hand willed me to take a look at his face and it mirrored my glee.

We smiled together.

As she was taking her last few breaths, she raised her head ever so slightly and looked at the royal couple and saw us for what we really were. The necrophiliac and the seven year old sadist...


End file.
